


it's yours, now

by theycallmeDernhelm (onyourleft084)



Series: and after all this time/i’m still into you [41]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale and Crowley retire, Epistolary, Gen, Post-Canon, Unleash the Chaos Zine, demonic legacy, passing the torch, short fic, the fuck shit up jacket
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29647299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onyourleft084/pseuds/theycallmeDernhelm
Summary: A Letter from Anthony J. Crowley, Formerly Stationed in London, England, to the Demon Who Succeeds Him At His Post Following His Most Deserved RetirementInclusive of One (1) Hi-Visibility Work Jacket for the Purposes of Fucking Shit Up
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: and after all this time/i’m still into you [41]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1515578
Comments: 10
Kudos: 65
Collections: Unleash The Chaos - Zine Fics and Art





	it's yours, now

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Unleash the Chaos zine 2020.

To My Adequately Worthy Successor, 

Congratulations, you bloody well made it to a permanent position on Earth. I’m sure by now the Dukes and our lot downstairs will have made a point of telling you this promotion is a great honour, an immense responsibility etc. So, now that you’re aware of all that and most likely got your head puffed up to a certain degree, allow me to clarify that I’m a tough act to follow. After all, you might have heard that I was the one specifically chosen to deliver the Antichrist. Well, not delivered-delivered, you know, just handed him over. And yeah I know I mucked that one up, but I think we can all agree that turned out okay in the end. After all, if it didn’t, you wouldn’t be reading this. 

Anyway, on to business. Along with this note you would have received a hi-visibility work jacket. It was mine. It’s yours, now. Consider it a gift: from one London demon to another, best regards and well-wishes on your most devious career ahead. Okay, well. It’s a little bit more than that. 

You’re probably wondering why a demon needs a piece of human clothing like this. Well, first of all, it’s for blending in. You put this on and humans immediately assume you’re on some kind of business. See for yourself. As long as you look the part, they don’t ask too many questions; in fact, maybe they won’t look or talk to you at all. Secondly, it’s basic work health and safety regulations. Oh, don’t scoff like that. Yes, I can hear you scoffing. Believe me, if they’re sending you to Earth they’re issuing you with a body, and _bodies can get hurt._ You don’t want to get discorporated because you got run over by a lorry in the dark, do you now? Thought so. Terrible way to go, car accidents. Wouldn’t recommend it.

Thirdly. Sometimes in the act of making mischief, you really need to get your hands dirty. Can’t always rely on humans to do the heavy lifting for you. Sure, a little whisper here and there can influence humans to bring out their worst, but if you really want to make a lasting impact, if you really want to impress the bosses— you go big time. Hit ‘em where it hurts. Phone lines. Sewage systems. Mass outdoor events. Ever heard of that business with Fyre Festival? That was me. Me and the ol’ fuck-shit-up jacket. That’s what it’s for, really. Fucking shit up. And when you’re fucking shit up, you have to put in some actual effort, which you can’t do in a new coat or your favourite black shirt or a silk dress with a sweetheart neckline. Take it from me. Dress for the part. 

I do want to ask you be careful with the old thing, though. ‘Careful’ isn’t really what demons do, but it’s pretty important, if not for the reasons I’ve outlined above, then for historic purposes. A sort of legacy of mine, I suppose. You see, this is a souvenir of some of my grandest triumphs, my fondest memories of making London (and other parts of the Western Hemisphere) a little more chaotic than when I found it. I wore this jacket when I interfered in the construction of the M5 Motorway, which you may have heard described as ‘a stroke of demonic genius.’ They can say what what they like about me down there, but even they have to admit: I gave ‘em all a run for their money with this one. But I want to tell you a secret. Sure, I did the computer hacks and moved the markers around in the dead of night, but I wouldn’t have known to use the Dread Sigil of Odegra if I hadn’t had some help. That stroke of demonic genius had a little angel in it, too. Which, of course, brings me to my next point. 

You’re here, you’re stuck on Earth, and you have eternity ahead of you to come up with all sorts of wiles. It’s tough work but I guess somebody’s got to do it (I’m just glad it’s no longer me.) So don’t be afraid to ask for help every now and again. Don’t be afraid to accept it when it’s offered. And don’t be afraid of opening up just enough (just enough, mind you) to let the right people in. Because truth be told, I wouldn’t be where I am today, literally, if I didn’t have...well. What I had. Who I still have.

What I’m saying is: it’s fine. It’s fine, okay? Friendship, loyalty, love, all the stuff we were told we can’t have because we are The Fallen. But the reality is, you’re not alone. Don’t you ever forget that you’re not alone, no matter how much you want to wallow in your own self-hatred. I’m a messy unlovable demon, look at me! Waaaah. You know. Just bloody get out there sometimes, for Somebody’s sake, because there’s more to the world than just your work. I’m saying, be curious! Ask questions! Get answers! What’s a fire, and why does it— sorry, that’s The Little Mermaid. But my point exactly. You’re part of this world now. Of all the reasons I stopped Armageddon, I never thought one of them would be so that another demon could take my place after I’ve conveniently retired (got sacked? Kind of a thin line, really) and moved out of London to a rather nice one-bedroom, single garage cottage in the countryside with a garden and a bird bath and a verandah and sodding library and the one person I could possibly see myself slogging through eternity with. But if you’re here, then maybe there’s a reason for it. And maybe there’s a reason why the Earth is still here for you. Who knows? Ineffable. Most likely you won’t be as lucky as I am, to find someone who tolerates you enough to want to have frequent lunches with you and eventually move in with you (what a concept, right?) But you’ll never know if you don’t take a chance. 

Now you’re probably wondering, if the jacket’s so important, then why don’t I keep it? I’ve considered that. Then I figured, nah. Best to leave it to to its purpose: fucking shit up. And mate, I don’t want to fuck shit up anymore. I’m a retired gentleman. I’m leaving the old life behind and shedding this skin in favour of a new one. It’s what snakes do, after all. 

So there you have it. Some words of advice from one London-bound demon to another, and the jacket, of course. It was mine for a long time, but it’s yours, now. Try it on— if it doesn’t fit now, soon enough it will. You’ll look fabulous (but not as fabulous as me.)

Well, you know what to do. Do it with style. 

Good luck.

Your predecessor,

Anthony J. Crowley

**Author's Note:**

> I am now on Tumblr- @EndlessOmens


End file.
